The Unclouded Hours Podcast

What began as a cool cloudy morning made a quick switch to daylight and warmth. Spring suddenly gave way to summer here in the Northern Hemisphere, before baking us in a week of heat, then returning to rain. The weather is officially in transition, as are many of us; several dear friends are in the midst of moving house, and I am among them.‘A change is as good as a rest’ we hear, but rest seems a tall order when that particular change take the form of travel, or looks as wholesale as our own home transplanted and relocated—what studies show is one of the top three most stressful experiences we will face in a lifetime.Continuing from last month’s invitation to rest, this month we take on the challenge to rest, even in the midst of uprooting and change.What will rest look like for you this month? Share with us below or at www.dianamsmith.substack.com.P.S. If you liked this episode, will you please like, subscribe or let us know? It helps us, and lets others know a conversation about rest is possible in real life. Thank you! Get full access to Unclouded Hours at dianamsmith.substack.com/subscribe

 This weekend in the UK is the May bank holiday, beginning with Beltane and the new moon today, and culminating with May the 4th. When planning long weekends, holidays or vacations, one of the first questions we tend to ask is, where am I going to go? We may dream of exotic places or faraway destinations that create distance from our day-to-day. But perhaps a better question, especially when we have come from a very tired place, is, what kind of environment do I want to step into? What is the particular kind of place or physical environment that would feel most restful? This month, we take a few minutes by the Old Oak Tree to explore the art of refuge, and what a place can bring back to us that we might not have known we had lost. If you enjoyed this episode, please let us know by sharing, liking or subscribing. This helps others join the conversation, and sends a signal that it’s time for more conversations about rest in the world. Thank you!To learn more, visit dianamsmith.substack.com. Get full access to Unclouded Hours at dianamsmith.substack.com/subscribe

In the garden, there's a new arrival I’ve never seen before: a yellow tulip. There are actually two of them, and each morning I wonder how long the bulbs have been hiding there, and what silent work they’ve been doing underground to finally surface now, just when our rain-weary eyes are most in need of something bright.Something else has been silently working behind the scenes: a new project, which is coming soon, and which we let poet Wendell Berry usher us into in this month’s episode and practice for rest. For today: perhaps find a place to sit down for this episode, and enjoy the sounds around the Old Oak Tree.To our little band of faithful listeners and 'rest friends,' thank you for being here. (And new subscribers, thank you for joining us!)To bright surprises,~ DianaP.S. If there is a book in you that has been asking you to write it, I have a seat still open at my upcoming writing and rest retreat, Write in the Countryside, later this month. Perhaps it’s yours? Learn more here, or simply tap reply to this post.. . . . .How to be a Poet by Wendell Berry, from New Collected Poems (Counterpoint, 2013).Music and editing by Corrective Lens. Get full access to Unclouded Hours at dianamsmith.substack.com/subscribe

Dear Friends,In the news this week was the announcement that is has rained every day since the turn of the new year in England. While the UK is renowned for its wet weather, there seems to be no end to the sky’s weeping, no light to remind us of the fact that spring will in fact come again.Rest, we often think, is the sunshine version of a life; bright and temporary, like the perfect advertised vacation destination. But even the weather of our human heart can meet us in a space of reprieve. Is rest then ruined? How do we step into rest in times of great grief, or even great joy?This month, a translation of Rump’s poem The Guest House (one I had not heard before now), threaded with a few practical tips offered by the Nagasaki sister’s in their book Burnout, offer us ideas and shelter when the rough weather of the world appears nonstop.Special thanks to Sidney McGregor for the music and thoughtful editing of this episode.For more on rest, writing, and leading, visit me at dianaamsmith.com.Wishing you a bit of warming sun to see you through,Diana Get full access to Unclouded Hours at dianamsmith.substack.com/subscribe

In the midst of a crowded -- or, as we like to say here, 'clouded' -- life, it may seem like our only moments to rest are in those rare chances we get to escape real life. Meanwhile, other living things have a deeper understanding: Rest is where real life comes back alive.How do we then rest in the midst of what we must do? Recorded on a rainy day as a new year was just waking up, we borrow a practice from Mary Oliver that she called 'flying low.'Stay inspired and explore more at "Unclouded Hours" on Substack: dianamsmith.substack.com.Many thanks to Sid McGregor at Collective Lens for his musical talents and audio production.Today's poem is called, "Today," by Mary Oliver, from A Thousand Mornings (Penguin, 2013). Get full access to Unclouded Hours at dianamsmith.substack.com/subscribe

‘I have learned things in the dark that I could never have learned in the light, things that have saved my life over and over again, so that there is really only one logical conclusion. I need darkness as much as I need light,” writes Barbara Brown Taylor. Here in December in the northern hemisphere (as also in the southern hemisphere in fact), holiday lights drape over houses and trees and across high streets of busy shops. But rest, offers poet Fenton Johnson, is not only brought on by cheer and twinkling lights, but by the generous dark. Many thanks to our new listeners for joining us! If you practice rest this month, please like, subscribe and share. Special thanks to Sid McGregor for his help and musical talents for this months invitation to rest. Get full access to Unclouded Hours at dianamsmith.substack.com/subscribe

When we enter a period of rest, however small or generous, we may meet with the unexpected. This often includes joy, but we may also meet with a sense of grief. This month, a page from the book of Diana's nearby Old Oak Tree (and an update on the tree itself) gives us reason for reassurance as we enter a winter time of rest.November has been quite full behind the scenes, so many thanks to Sid McGregor for his editing and musical help to make this episode possible to share.Did this episode stir your own thoughts or practice of rest? Please share, I'd love to hear from you. If you enjoyed this month's note, please also like or subscribe; it helps us keep the conversation around rest going. Thank you! Get full access to Unclouded Hours at dianamsmith.substack.com/subscribe

‘The trees are about to show us how beautiful it can be to let go,’ reads the chalkboard sign outside of a cafe. This golden month of October as the trees shed all they’ve produced, we step outside to take in the view of a wider horizon—a practice scientists have discovered changes our physiology and mental capacity. With the aid of a short poem by Archibald Lampman titled Refuge, look at, What is the act of rest? How do we do it?, and a tangible way to take the weight that we carry and lay it down—just, lay it down. What stands out to you from the poem? How will you rest this month? Please share your thoughts here, join me at The Unclouded Hours on Substack, or reach out on Instagram. I would love to hear from you. Blessings, Diana . . . . . Join The Unclouded Hours on Substack at DianaMSmith.Substack.comOr learn more at DianaMSmith.com Get full access to Unclouded Hours at dianamsmith.substack.com/subscribe

Welcome to September,And lunar eclipse greetings from England, where the rain has rejoined us. For listeners just joining us, each month, I offer a morsel of food for thought for inviting spaciousness into the weeks ahead, in rhythm with the seasons. This month, a guest joins our meditation: nature, in the form of the lake near my house. While recording, the sun came out from behind the clouds and lit the trees with golden light, just as Mary Oliver has us imagine in this month’s poem. This month: discernment, why some of us may feel September is a 'New Year’ time, and how distilling to the essence of things transforms routine ‘doing’ into acts of devotion.Whatever ‘season’ your own life is in, may this month bring the simplicity of autumn to your days, and may your routines be a little more life-giving, refreshing, and light. Thank you for listening. I you have any thoughts, or a word or phrase stood out to you that you’d like to share, I would love to hear from you. And thank you for joining this ongoing experiment to bring a bit of rest into the thick of real life.Diana. . . “When I am Among the Trees,” by Mary Oliver is from her book Devotions, published by Penguin Press. Get full access to Unclouded Hours at dianamsmith.substack.com/subscribe

Hello friends,Along one side of my neighbour’s garden is a long stretch of flourishing blackberries. They arrived, juicy and full, much earlier that usual. This autumn has brought the berries early, while the cooler temperatures are late. We need the rain; and, we are loving the sun. In an instant, of course, it could change. This is what I admire in Alexander Posey’s poem, Autumn. He carries us along, line by line, through warm days and fields turned golden, with birds still singing, a sense of cordiality, when suddenly — a leaf falls. That’s how we know: change has arrived. While this rest note also arrives later than planned, I hope Posey’s poem, and a few words from David Whyte on rest, are landing in your inbox/app, at just the right time. Wishing you a deep breath this August,DianaAutumn, by Alexander Posey, is in the public domain.Excerpt from David Whyte is from the chapter titled Rest, in his book Consolations.You can follow Charley Mackesy on Instagram. To learn more about Diana, visit DianaMSmith.com or join me on Instagram. Get full access to Unclouded Hours at dianamsmith.substack.com/subscribe

A note and meditation on the spaciousness inherent in the high summer of July.Plus readings from Jim Crumley's The Nature of Autumn, and an excerpt from Mary Oliver's poem, "To Begin With, the Sweet Grass."Also: an invitation to join me for the 2025 Rest & Writing Retreat, taking place 15-21 September 2025. Take time to refill the well, and get generous, focused time for writing with a small group of like-minded others. Learn more at DianaMSmith.com.Follow for more at The Unclouded Hours on Substack: https://dianamsmith.substack.com Get full access to Unclouded Hours at dianamsmith.substack.com/subscribe